


Buried Treasure

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 16:13:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19176841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: A pair of missing children and a hunt for pirate treasure leads Garrison and his men and the men from Brandonshire and the Mansion on a series of adventures.  Those adventures would prove interesting, certainly; would one of them also prove deadly to the men from Garrison's team?





	Buried Treasure

Looking back, it wasn't even on a mission, that was what was just so totally unbelievable about the whole thing. After all, the guys were used to weird and dangerous shit happening on the job. No, it was in Mapleton, a small village just to the west of Brandonshire. Well, in the area between the two villages, actually. 

They'd only been back from France for two days when the word had come via an urgent call from Ben Miller, the local constable. 

"Lieutenant, can you spare any of the men up at the Mansion? We've a pair of youngsters gone missing over Mapleton way. Their mother, Mrs. Clower, is frantic, says the boy, Davie, had been playing at being a pirate and talking about smugglers' loot and all, with his little sister playing his games right along with him. She went in to wake them from their nap and they were gone, right along with the treasure map they'd spent their morning drawing and giggling over. She thinks they may have gone adventuring in the cliffs, but that area is loaded with old mines and a few caves. We're getting anyone who can to join in the search. There's hardly any able bodied men left in Mapleton right now; that last enlistment sweep took the few that were left."

Well, with the fate of a pair of youngsters, both under the age of eight, at stake, there was no question but that they'd help, the guards, the Sergeant Major, Garrison and his team. Unfortunately, they were short a few of the usual contingent due to some nonsense at Base, but Rawlins grimly mustered what he could. They left just the mandatory guards in place, one at the front gate, one at the door of the Mansion, and just what was absolutely required on the perimeter, and soon the jeeps were roaring out toward Mapleton.

The groups formed up at the Clower cottage, and while the teary-eyed mother watched anxiously, the men were formed up into teams of two, three and four or more, depending on the area they would be searching and the agility of the men involved. It was Ben Miller who laid out the map, sectioned it off, him being most familiar with the location, assigned the men according to their individual capabilities, and Garrison was comfortable with that, knowing just how competent and reliable the constable was.

Ben Miller took a group, all older and not as sure on their feet, perhaps, but still bound and determined to help; he figured he'd be most likely to keep them from headed off to more dangerous territory as a couple of the more stubborn were muttering about doing. 

"Used to climb the cliffs night and day when I was a boy; no reason anyone to be thinking I wouldn't remember how," Clyde Peterson, muttered resentfully, getting a few nods of approval. 

Ben knew pretty much how many years ago that had been, Clyde being one of the daring older lads his grandfather had looked up to so much when HE was but a youngster, and shuddered at the thought. He thought some of those cliffs might be younger than Clyde!

Old Howie headed another group; the handyman might be up there in years, but he was still strong and able, put in more hours of hard labor each day than many a man a quarter his age. Private Perkins, one of Gil Rawlins' most reliable men, went along as Howie's second. 

Jake, bartender at The Doves, would do the more heavily occupied areas, though that was probably a misnomer in this sparsely populated bit of England; his weak arm that had kept him from the army would also keep him away from the heights or the caves, but he and Luke Fallon would make a sweep of all the neighboring cottages, working their way in a spiraling motion outwards. Lou, the other bartender would have joined in, but he was on a supply run to London and unaware of the excitement.

Garrison led a group, two men from the area along with two guards from the Mansion, Actor teamed up with Casino and Sergeant Major Rawlins and another of the guards, with Goniff and Chief working together with Private Jenkins, headed out for the area with the caves and the occasional abandoned mine, being considered the ones most able to negotiate that treacherous terrain.

Garrison pictured that map, the lines cutting it into segments, visualizing the overlapping at the edges. Yes, if those children were to be found, this was the way to go about it. Once again he wished Meghada were in residence, but she was off and gone, and little Max along with her. Never mind the skills the Dragon would have brought to the search, they could have used Max and his fast little four legs and his cunning nose for tracking. 

 

It was Ben Miller's group, several hours later, tired and footsore but still doggedly determined, who discovered the two grimy, sweetly smiling kids sleeping under the pear trees in Dautry Meadows' orchard. Being roused by a gentle hand to his shoulder, Davie rubbed the sleep from his eyes and explained to the incredulous searchers that, "we's got tired walking and decided pears are yellow, same as like gold, so they's just like pirate treasure, and the pear trees was closer than the caves. We ate lots; they was real good too! You want some?? Don't think Ms. Meadows would mind," smiling around at the men looking down at them. His little sister Daisy hadn't quite woken up yet, was yawning and stretching, not in the least alarmed by the group surrounding her and her brother.

The men were torn between giving them both a fierce hug, a hearty scolding, and a quick slap on their butts, but settled for the first, leaving the rest to their mother. All in all, this would be one hell of a story. 

Turns out, that wasn't the only story, not by a long shot. Seems Ben Miller's group of oldsters had the best of it, not just in their finding of the two young miscreants but also in their wearisome but uneventful search. The rest of the groups, well, that was kinda hit and miss, with things ranging from slightly inconvenient to what could end up being a matter of life and death.

Old Howie and Private Perkins and their men came up against a surly Miles Camberstitch, feeding his pigs and not in the least interested in stopping the slow, steady movement of that pitchfork to talk with a bunch of people who had nothing better to do than waltz around the countryside bothering hardworking people like him. Hearing the reason for their coming on his property didn't help a lot, them getting a dour "seen no childer, don't want to see no childer. You tell them childer to keep their selves off my land; got no time for such nonsense. Pirate treasure, hmmmpff!" 

They got the firm impression that if he HAD seen the kids, he'd not have been in the least hesitant about declaring that fact to the skies, just to complain about them slowing down his work, but they had to admit that pitchfork being waved in their direction made them all a little nervous and eager to be on their way, and frankly those hungry pigs didn't look any friendlier.

Jake and Luke Fallon had steadily made their way in the ever-outward spiral Ben Miller had outlined on the map, and while they encountered several of the locals and while all were concerned and tried to be helpful, none had seen the children. 

The problem was, not every cottage had someone inside or in the immediate vicinity, and Ben had been firm, "you look everywhere, whether or not. You know how youngsters can get in the oddest places,", so they did. It was at old Mrs. Ferris's cottage that they came a cropper. No one was in the gardens and no one answered their knock, so they tripped the latch and went in to take a look, making sure the kids hadn't come in to take a rest. 

Turned out Mrs. Ferris had been enjoying a good laydown after a hard batch of canning, and didn't react well to waking to see two men coming through her bedroom door. Between her fury and hysterical reaction, her being quite deaf in the bargain, both men took a few lumps from that cricket bat of her grandson's that she kept alongside her bedstead. Of course, she apologized after they finally got the point across that, no, they weren't there to rob her or anything else, just looking for two missing tots. They left, rubbing their bruises, ruefully admitting they weren't any too anxious to explain their injuries to the others when they joined up, but nibbling at the scones Mrs. Ferris had pressed on them as a make-peace.

Garrison and his group had kept firmly to the plan, all the way to where they had to cross that broad grassy field enclosed by a close rail fence. He'd frowned at the hand-lettered sign tied haphazardly by one broken corner to the fence, "NAY DINNA" all in lopsided and faded printing. {"Whatever that means!"} Between Goniff's Cockney cant, Casino's frequent dishing out of terms straight out of a gangster movie, and the local colloquialisms, he felt he could understand Actor's flights into Italian better. He shrugged, climbed over the fence and the others followed along.

They were halfway across the field when the oversized curly-horned ram woke from his slumbers in the sun and spotted the interlopers in HIS territory. Didn't those humans know that wasn't allowed??! Even those who lived in the small farmhouse on the far side didn't venture here easily, and as for strangers, well!!! For goodness sake, there was even that sign that clearly said "NO! DON'T!" How dumb could these men be?? His dark eyes glinted as he surged to his feet.

Garrison and his men stopped on the far side of the opposite fence, gloomily surveying their torn clothes, bruises, and for Garrison, assorted scratches and cuts from that low pile of scrap lumber and nails and assorted metal (a long abandoned harsh weather shelter) concealed in the tall grass just inside the fence they'd just scrambled over. Luckily he'd just had a tetanus shot, necessitated by another little mishap back at the Mansion. He was being to consider those just a regular thing, both the mishaps and the tetanus shots; both seemed to come round with depressing frequency, since Dr. Riley refused to let him just go with the excuse of "but I just HAD one!" when he once again had a run-in with rusty metal.

He knew the guys were going to give him grief over this. {"They keep telling me I can get hurt walking across a dance floor. Well, that's one dance partner I don't want to waltz with again!"} looking back at the proud, even arrogant stance of the big brown ram watching them from the other side of the enclosure. There was a solid challenge in those dark eyes, that uplifted head that none of the men were in the least interested in accepting.

Meanwhile Actor and Casino ran into trouble of another sort. The assorted females at the remote little group of cottages on the perimeter of the search area, the Camberton family homestead, they totally mistook the reason for the approach of this little group of "utterly toothsome young men", and were all aflutter at the idea of "admirers, sisters! Isn't that lovely??!" 

The mention of "missing children" got turned into "wanting children" by the Camberton relicts and spinsters and grass-widows, and the blushing and twittering and simpering had to be seen to be believed. Even Actor, with all his charm, wasn't able to settle them down, if anything managed to get them all wound up even farther, and it was an extremely hasty retreat the men finally managed to make. 

Needless to say, none of those left behind were any too pleased, but as Sister Agnes said, "nerry mind, once word gets round that we're accepting visitors, I'm sure there'll be others."

Casino had growled as they got out of sight, "you breathe a word of this, Beautiful. . .!" remembering the tall crone who'd tried to drag him off into the bedroom, whispering things that made him really want to wash his ears out with a good dose of lye soap. Well, probably the tall Italian wasn't any more eager to tell this story than he was; that woman who was fluttering her eyelashes at Actor was probably over ninety and nowhere near five foot tall, all the while twitching her bustle and talking about whether he'd prefer a boy or a girl first time round! {"Sheesh, the look on Beautiful's face!"}

Still, all in all, they'd gotten off lucky. At least compared to the last team. Goniff and Chief and Private Jenkins had run into real trouble, trouble they just might not all get away from with their lives. Well, they knew they had the riskier part of the search, if more narrowly defined geographically. This short stretch of cliffs, with the few played-out mines on the perimeter, was probably too far for the children to have gotten, but still, they couldn't discount the possibility, not with the kids' lives maybe at stake. 

The plan was for them to look for any sign, and if they found it, for one of them to hightail it back and get help. They'd originally thought to fire off a shot as a signal, but Ben Miller had grimly put a capper on that idea. "Things too unstable up there. Those mines, they were getting deadly before they were shut down, and who knows what might cause one of those caves to come atumbling closed." Yeah, that put the idea of a shot way out of bounds.

All three of them were nimble, making their way around the loose rock at the base, following what might be signs of recent passage til each petered out, or became obviously an animal trail when a clear hoof print distinguished a blurry scuffle of rocks and stones as being from a goat or something similar. 

The unexpected advent of a pissed off adder not a foot from Goniff's grasping fingers hadn't eased their tension, but they just set their mouths and continued on. The dark mouth of an abandoned mine drew their attention; there had once been a barricade across the front, but the battered remains had fallen away and the ground at the rocky entrance had been scuffled around. Looking at that deep downward sloping hole, they paused. 

"Guess we better take a look," Chief said, only the set of his mouth showing just how little he liked that idea. Well, neither of the others were all that anxious to disappear into that looming blackness either. They'd come equipped with a couple of coils of rope and a battery flash, so having drawn lots, Private Jenkins headed down, slowly, carefully. It was with mixed relief and disappointment when they felt the quick tug indicating they were to put tension on the rope to guide him back. One tug meant 'I'm coming out, nothing here'; it would have been two if he'd found some trace.

One more mine, one ominous looking cave, each checked out for any signs, and they'd worked their way closer to the top of the cliffs. 

"Can't see them getting this far," Chief said, "that last stretch, the handholds were too far apart for someone their size." Well, that was probably true, and since they'd seen no other signs, they'd headed down the other side, thinking to pick up traces there if the kids had ventured this way in their search for pirate treasure.

Halfway down they came a cropper. The ground shifted and gave way under their feet, and while Jenkins and Goniff were able to scramble backwards in time, it was with utter dismay they saw Chief disappear into the narrow opening that had appeared out of nowhere. 

Moving quickly, though cautiously, to the edge of the hole, they looked downward, but into utter darkness, not even the battery flash giving any sign of their companion, and their soft calls got no response.

"Ruddy 'ell, Jenkins! Who knows 'ow deep that blasted thing is!! Chiefy could 'ave ended up all the way at the bottom of the cliff, or even farther if it connects to one a those ruddy mines or a cave! Coulda got stuck real good too, if it gets all narrow-like!" Goniff was frantic, and Jenkins not much better. 

"One a us gotta go down, see if we can get to him," Jenkins said out loud what both of them were thinking. 

The thing was, it wasn't going to be 'one of them'. Jenkins was just too broad across the shoulders; he would have barely fit into the opening at the very top, and if it narrowed even a whisker, he'd get lodged. They both knew that, were both well aware that while Chief wasn't as big as Jenkins, he was certainly broader than Goniff. Still, there wasn't a choice; they couldn't proceed til they knew what the situation really was.

Together they tied off one of the ropes, and with Jenkins guiding him, Goniff lowered himself down that opening that reminded him of a hungry animal's mouth, just waiting for a second helping of dinner, Chief having been the first. He found himself muttering, "easy now, don't swallow, don't swallow," before he realized how dumb that sounded and shut up. Well, he didn't like dark narrow places much, and knowing how much this was bothering him, even with being tied to a rope and Jenkins waiting above holding the other end, he felt sick at how Chief must have felt, especially with not having any warning.

He called softly every few feet, "Chiefy? You 'ear me, Chiefy? Come on, Chiefy, answer me!" His pleading voice echoed around him, but only his; there was no answer, no matter how hard he listened. 

Far below, a motionless figure was huddled in an old mine tunnel, uprights still in place, but dust particles now swirling in the air from the mighty thump Chief had made as he'd tumbled down the old ventilation shaft and landed at the bottom.

Whoever had covered the airshaft on the topside had used scrap wood, probably sturdy enough in the beginning, but between the weather and the weight of time, it had become fragile, to say the least. The wind had done a thorough job of shielding the cover with several inches of dirt and debris, enough as to make it indiscernable from the rocky ground around it, and that had been Chief's downfall. If he'd known it was there, knew about the old ventilation shafts the miners used to get fresh air to the mines below, maybe he would have seen it in time, but he didn't.

Goniff edged downward, farther and farther. At one point he wasn't sure he'd be able to go any deeper, there being that abrupt change in direction caused by a rocky outcropping from the side, but just managed to push himself around the sharply angled curve. {"Bet that 'urt like the blazes w'en Chiefy 'it that mother!"}. He knew he'd lost a little skin on the jagged rocks even taking it slow and easy.

Jenkins played out the rope carefully, reassured by the steady downward movement. Goniff was bracing himself with his feet and hands, not depending solely on the rope; well, climbing was his business, though not usually in circumstances like these, and he knew you never depended just on a rope, not if you had any choice. 

That was just as well, of course, considering that outcropping now above him was steadily wearing away at the rope supporting him. 

Down below, Chief was trying to sit up, shaking his head gently to try and clear it. Black darkness surrounded him, the only contrast being the sharp silver and red flashes that came from behind his eyes. While it was colorful, it did nothing as far as telling him where he was or how the hell he was supposed to get out again. His groping hands came up against stone - stone behind him, stone under him. He could feel his lungs and chest start to tighten, half afraid to reach out and find even more stone encircling him to the sides and front. His lips were dry, and when he tried to moisten them, he found he didn't have enough wet left in his mouth to do much more than stir the rockdust around. Pulse rate climbing, he forced himself to think. 

He had just forced himself to determine that no, he couldn't feel rock within an arms length to each side, or to the front, and a careful easing himself forward let him know the distance, at least to the front, was much farther. Venturing to toss few of the small stones cluttering the surface around him, he discovered the space to the left didn't go very far, but there was more room to the right and ahead. A quick toss of a stone upwards just brought down more rock dust, and he decided he probably wouldn't repeat that experiment. 

For a moment he wished he'd been the one carrying the battery flash, but then reality sunk in, and he knew it would never have survived that fall. Actually, it was pretty miraculous HE'D survived that fall with as little damage as he thought he'd taken. There were bruises aplenty, and various cuts, but he thought most of them were pretty harmless. His right arm was numb, and he didn't know if that was good or bad, but decided not to worry about it since there was damn all he could do about it anyway.

He'd just gotten himself gathered enough to think about sending an exploratory call into the darkness, to see if Goniff and Jenkins were within earshot. They hadn't tumbled down here with him; that was one of the first things he'd checked for once he'd been able to move around. Turns out he didn't have to, for there was a sharp cry from above, then a clatter of rock and dust rained down on him. 

"Shit! Goniff? That you? You okay," he called. It seemed a long time before he got a faint, thoroughly disgusted answer, and it seemed as if his heart stood still til that answer came.

"Chiefy? Coo, am I glad to 'ear your voice!! Yeah, I'm okay; ruddy rope snapped though, and I'm 'alfway stuck. Course, that's probably good or I'd most likely be sitting on top of you right now! You okay?"

"Yeah, pretty much so. A little banged up, and I don't see no way outta here yet. Think it's a cave, or maybe one of the old mine shafts. Wait," his hands just having encountered something on one of the walls. "Whichever it is, there's a hook on the wall, probably for a lantern. Damn shame there isn't a lantern; pitch black in here," he called. He was trying to keep it calm, but they both knew the darkness, the being closed in was awful for him. 

{"Course, doubt Goniff is all that happy with being stuck in whatever it was I fell down."}

"You alone? Jenkins stuck in there too?" he called, hoping like hell that wasn't the case. They were in a fine mess if they were BOTH stuck!

"Nah, Jenkins is still up above. 'E's a bright boy too, you know that. Ei, Jenkins, you still there?" Goniff pitched his voice upwards, it falling back to Chief more faintly. 

Even fainter was the reply, "Goniff??! Glory, thought I'd lost you too when that rope snapped! I'll send down the other one," Jenkins called, but Goniff quickly refused.

"No sense in that; there's a place that's real sharp. Probably what tore the rope to bits. Imagine the other one won't do no better, and I can't see 'ow I'd get around that jagged bit again, not going in the other direction. Sides, I'm bloody well stuck; couldn't go nowhere even with the rope. But Chiefy's down below and awake and talking. Says it's a mine or cave, but with 'ooks on the wall for lanterns and such. You best 'igh-tail it back and get 'elp; keep an eye out for the landmarks, and be careful! Can't 'ave you coming a cropper too; we're depending on you."

Jenkins didn't like it, but he didn't see much else he could do. Well, one thing he could do, and that he did, making note of any signs of a cave or mine entrance on his way down. There were a couple of strong possibilities, especially that mine shaft where there was an uncommon amount of dust floating around, like there'd been a considerable disturbance inside. 

"Bet that's where Chief landed - a good possibility, anyhow," he noted as he piled a few rocks into the shape of an arrow pointing at the entrance before taking off as quickly as he dared over the rough ground.

"Ei, Chiefy. Jenkins 'as 'eaded back to fetch the others. Might take some time, but they'll get 'ere, you know they will," he called down below. He hoped he could stay awake and keep talking, keep Chief company, but he was getting a right good headache and wasn't sure he could. He just hoped he could keep the nausea at bay, which wasn't a sure thing considering he was pretty sure he had a concussion. Well, he just HAD to; Chief didn't need him upchucking all over him, and sides, the way he was stuck, he'd probably just choke himself to death if he did anything like that. He decided to just ignore the headache, the way he was ignoring the warm seeping of blood that was soaking his shirt and pants leg. He couldn't get his hands in position to check the damage, so ignoring was pretty much all he could do anyhow.

"And Ben Miller is with them, and Old 'Owie; they know the area. They'll be able to figure out w'ere you are, figure out 'ow to pull you out for sure," Goniff offered reassuringly.

"Yeah, I know. You really stuck? You couldn't work your way down a little, get loose and slide the rest of the way? There's room enough for both of us, and I can break your fall," Chief suggested. Yeah, it might be a little more cramped, but being together, that would be ample compensation.

"Coo, wish I could, but caught like a mouse in a trap I am, Chiefy." He didn't offer any speculation on how those on the outside were going to be able to free him; he purely didn't want to think of what it would be like if they couldn't. Just how HE'D managed to get stuck when Chiefy had slid right through, well, that he didn't know; some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed!

They talked for awhile, but Goniff's voice gradually got fainter, and eventually Chief's questions, comments got no answer. Well, unless you wanted to consider those random drops of wet that hit his face a time or two; he'd frowned, puzzled at the sensation, but touching his finger to his face, then to his tongue, he recognized the taste of blood. It wasn't his, and he wondered just how badly hurt Goniff truly was. Wondered too just how far away the man was really was, wondering if he was close enough Chief could grab hold and pull him down. He stood as upright as he could, reaching upward into that shaft, but nothing came in contact with his searching fingertips except for rock and open darkness. 

Somehow that made the rocks surrounding him even more like a tomb, not knowing if his teammate was alive or dead, if not dead, maybe dying for lack of help in staunching his wounds. Feeling the thin edge of panic start to settle in again, the panic Goniff's vocal presence had driven back for a space of time, Chief searched for something, anything to make this bearable, anything that could help him endure til help arrived. 

And within himself he found what he was searching for.

It was at Odellinn, the Clan safehouse, that Ian, Meghada's brother, had shown him the way. No, not the Moon Path. That was most often only accessible to the women of the Clan. But, Ian had told him, there was a side path, a variant, that the men could walk, if they held the talent within them, learned the techniques, and were very, very careful. 

"The women don't hold all the riches, you know. The Sweet Mother is too generous for that; we men might not have the SAME talents, the same secrets, but we don't go unarmed either," Ian had told him with confidence.

It had been a breathtaking concept to him, a place accessible to him in the most dire of circumstances, a place of shelter and protection and so much more. A place where he could regain his balance when his borderline claustrophobia threatened to overcome him, caused his ironwilled control to falter. He'd listened, learned, practiced, but hoped with all his being he would never have to resort to using it. 

They'd practiced together, well, as much as Ian could, since most of it had to be Chief's efforts. In fact, he'd found there was more Power waiting for him there on that side path than Ian had mentioned, and it felt as if it was from a different source. The same source that had fed him Power and Knowledge when the White Owl Maiden had visited him. Somehow, the two forces merged within him, seemed to feed and nuture each other, and he'd thought he had some measure of control, though, of course, there was no guarantee of that, not til the necessity arose. 

Well, now it had - both the necessity and the finding. The question had been, would the newly-risen Power within him be enough to help him save himself? Could he keep it together til his teammates could find him?

Now he put into practice all Ian had shown him, all he had spent those long hours perfecting, and slowly it formed in front of him, glistening in the darkness. To the left, a crystal bridge with brilliantly colored birds flying over around and under it. The light from the bridge illuminated the entire horizon, and most importantly, illuminated the more narrow sapphire structure, more a cross between a footbridge and a spiraling staircase than the more imposing crystal construct, off to the side. Oh, the entrance onto the crystal bridge and the twisting sapphire and bronze footbridge started in the same place, a small landing of cobblestones that ended at a wide gap overlooking a mindshuddering nothingness. But it was the glow of sapphire that drew him, promised him so much.

He wasn't afraid; this was familiar territory now. He'd visited here often enough since Ian had shown him the way, though never out of desperate need, not like now. But he knew just how to bridge that gap; he knew just how the sapphire and bronze metal would feel under his feet, how the twisted metal ropes would feel under his hands, and he knew he would be safe there. He would be safe, he would endure, and he would wait. And best of all, there was a shadow off to his right, a familiar one, and the faint outline of a face smiling at him encouragingly, nodding in gruff approval. Yes, he would be alright now, and he had the oddest feeling that Goniff would be too.

 

In the narrow rocky vent, a good dozen feet above the mine opening, Goniff shifted slightly, and felt himself slide an inch or two. He struggled to come back to reality and braced himself. Yeah, getting out of there would be good, but no matter how Chief had said he would help break his fall, Goniff didn't really want to put it into practice, not unprepared anyway, not having any idea how far down the bottom was. And there was always the possibility of getting stuck again, maybe in an even worse position. He figured it was a miracle Chief hadn't gotten stuck, but decided his teammate must have gone down at a slightly different angle, and besides Goniff had been bracing himself on the sides and that had changed things too, most likely.

He tried to push himself downward, trying to maintain some control, but it seemed those scant inches were as far as he was intended to go, and he heaved a sigh of frustration and cast an apprehensive look around into the darkness surrounding him.

He tried to drag his mind away from the possibility of never getting out, being stuck here forever, but the thought of dying there, alone, his dried bare bones finally slipping away to filter down to the space below was just too daunting, and he felt the nausea start to return.

Then a soft voice, gently chiding him, "now, you know better than that. The others, your friends, wouldn't let that happen. And besides, you are one of Mine now. Mine and hers, my Dragon. Yes, she may be out and away for now, but can you imagine how she'd take on if I let you stay stuck in there? Never hear the end of it, most like! And you KNOW what she's like!" The voice urged him to find that last bit amusing, just as she'd intended for him to find the first part comforting, and in truth he did, in both respects.

Still, the voice was one he didn't recognize, not quite, though there was a strong maternal air to the whole thing, and it did seem familiar in an odd sort of way. 

He tried a tentative, "Mum? Maithren?" and that got a warm chuckle. 

"Well, in a way, I suppose. Yes, you can call me that, either one, if you like. Our Dragon, she calls me her 'Sweet Mother Erdu', as do the rest of her kind. Whichever you wish, lad. Just rest at ease; I have you firmly in my arms - I'll not let you fall." Somehow, there was the sensation of warm arms encircling him, and when he turned his head, it was to nestle into a warm softness that seemed to welcome him, to feel gentle lips kissing his hair.

And he smiled into the darkness, sighed in relief and contentment, and slept, knowing he was truly safe.

 

By the time Private Jenkins came across the rejoined search teams, the children now back safely with their mother, he was shaking with the effort he'd put forth, and it took him a few minutes before he could gasp out what had happened. A fast conference and one of the jeeps roared off toward town to gather what they would need to effect a dual rescue, everyone else hastening to the mine shaft Jenkins had described.

Assessing the situation, discovering the tunnel was blocked but could probably be shifted if they were careful, Ben Miller had suggested they get to Chief first, saying it might be easier to drag Goniff down into the mine rather than try and pull him up past that rocky snag again.

Garrison had been clench-jawed ever since he'd heard Jenkins' story; Casino had been cursing steadily under his breath. Actor was probably as upset, but tended to show it less. Still, he knew as well as they did how claustrophobic Chief was, with Goniff heading in that direction himself. To be trapped like that would be indescribably brutal for anyone, but for the two of them? And just how the hell were they to get them out, either of them??!

They worked as quickly as they safely could, clearing a space, making sure the clearing was reinforced before they moved forward, only to repeat the process twice over. The necessity for that, the delay it caused made them groan in frustration, but it would hardly do either of the men trapped inside any good for the rescuers to bring the whole structure down on top of them all. 

Finally, when they cleared those last tumbled rocks, there was only open space on the other side, and those at the front passed the word back, "we're through!" And the array of men complete with flashlights, Garrison and Casino at the forefront, Actor immediately behind, made their way into the small clearing in the tunnel and looked around eagerly.

 

They found him there, sitting with his back to the wall, his forehead resting on his bent knees. And to their amazement, knowing how he felt about dark, enclosed spaces, his eyes were calm, even serene in the light's beam when he slowly lifted his head to greet them. Even his voice was calm, a slight smile on his lips as he sought the face he'd pictured in his mind so often, the face that had kept him company on that sapphire and bronze footbridge. 

"Took you long enough, Pappy. You take the scenic route?"

"Shit, Indian! You scared us half to death, ya know that??! Don't do that again, ya hear me!!" Casino exploded. He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing the younger man and pulling him to his feet, giving him a good shake in the bargain. Or maybe punching him for scaring him so bad. Or hugging him and never letting him go, ever again. Oh, whatever!! 

Casino figured it was just good there wasn't enough room in here to do any of that, kept him from doing something really dumb, something he'd have to deal with afterwards.

The others were looking at Casino like he was nuts; well, it wasn't like Chief had gone out of his way to end up in this mess, not like Casino was making it out he had!

Chief looked into those dark eyes, saw the tumult of emotion behind them and for the first time, understood he was not alone in this cosmic tug-of-war of the emotions. It was just that he understood and accepted, and Casino, no matter his eclectic reading patterns, was still discounting the truth. Somehow, that shifted things; it might not change the outcome, might not lead to the true partnership he longed for, but at least now he knew - he was not alone. And somehow, that made it just a little easier to bear.

"And Goniff?" Actor had asked, searching the low-hanging rocks above.

"The vent's right above me. We talked for awhile, but haven't heard a word for some time. He's hurt, I know that, but don't know how bad," Chief told them.

Garrison moved forward, moved the flashlight to see the dark opening above. The thought of being stuck in a place like that chilled him, but he didn't have time for gruesome imaginings - he had an annoying little pickpocket, his mischief-maker, and so very much more, to retrieve.

"Goniff, enough with the silent act! You answer me, now!" he called, and in the cramped and rocky confines above, Goniff chuckled. Yeah, that was the Warden alright! Well, at least he knew they'd gotten to Chief okay. Now, question was how the hell were they going to pop him out of his mousetrap?

A long pole with a rope attached was sent upwards, but the angle was too sharp for the pole to be long enough, and besides Goniff couldn't have gotten his hands down far enough to grab the rope. 

Finally it was a combination of twisted acrobatics by the thinest of the men, Private Perkins and Garrison himself, Perkins crouching below and slowly rising to his full height with the help of the others, Garrison atop Perkins' narrow shoulders, forcing himself upwards enough to get his hands around Goniff's boots and tugging steadily downwards. From the muttered exclamations he knew the Englishman was taking more damage, but they really didn't have a lot of choice.

Goniff came down far easier than either he or they had thought possible. Just the knowledge that the way below was clear, that once he forced his way out of his cramped stony tightjacket he could get out of here and breathe the open air again, that made the effort more worthwhile, and maybe, just maybe, he had a motherly hand giving him a slight helpful shove along with the pull from Garrison. He lost another few inches of skin, and he braced himself on the way down, knowing the ultimate landing wouldn't do his bad knee, the one that seemed to take the brunt of any fall any more, any good at all, but eager hands had been there to catch him and break his fall, so he came out far better than he'd thought he would.

 

"The kids okay?" Chief asked, with Goniff raising an anxious head to spot the answer on the others' faces. 

Garrison grinned at the two of them, "yes, they're fine. Though I think their mother is going to have a few words with their grandfather about telling them pirate stories AND about that treasure map of theirs."

Old Howie nodded sagely. "Ai, there's little enough of that still around here. Still and all, once in awhile you do run across a bit of buried treasure. Trick is, after you find it, making sure you get it out safely, and then getting it back home again, where it can be tucked up all right and tight," a knowing smile crossing his weathered face. 

Garrison, and Casino, and Actor took another long look at their two battered companions and nodded in agreement. Garrison spoke for all of them when he said, "yes, well, we've done the rest; let's get moving on getting that last part taken care of. I for one will feel a lot better when that's accomplished. What do you say, guys? Home, a hot shower, some food and twenty-four hours of sack time? How does that sound?"

Their weary smiles told him how that sounded, and the faces of those around them echoed their feelings entirely.

 

Leaning back in the jeep, Casino to one side of him, Actor on the other, Chief closed his eyes and smiled to himself. He had wondered how much that variation of the Moon Path would help, if he was capable of walking that path, letting it work to his advantage. Well, now he knew, and in the knowing, a new level of confidence strengthened him for whatever lay ahead.

As for Goniff, well, leaning back against the seat, even knowing he had an uncomfortable session with Doc Riley waiting for him, he was content. Well, why wouldn't he be? He was out of that rocky tomb; had his teammates around him, the Warden right along side, strong arm around his shoulders to keep him firmly in place; he had Meghada due back from her wanderings any time now. And he had a new member to his growing family, or so it seemed. {"Sweet Mother Erdu; had a real nice voice, she did, lot like my 'Gaida."}

**Author's Note:**

> References: 'Irrisistible Temptations' and 'Casino and The Lovely Lady'


End file.
